


The Wedding Date

by cheesyficwriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, HPRomione Discord's ROMioneCOM Challenge, Romance, The Wedding Date Fusion, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29903031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesyficwriter/pseuds/cheesyficwriter
Summary: Hermione Granger had no idea what she was getting herself into when she invited a complete stranger to be her date to her best friend's wedding. Muggle AU.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 30
Kudos: 31
Collections: RomioneCom





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.
> 
> A/N: Hello there! So excited to post this venture into the ROMioneCOM world. Check out the AO3 tag for more amazing Romione fics from many brilliant authors on here, inspired by classic rom-coms! This one is loosely-based off of "The Wedding Date". 
> 
> Huge shout-out to accio-broom for beta-ing this fic! Go check out her amazing stories! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

**The Wedding Date**

**Chapter One**

* * *

  
  


_Hermione Granger and Guest_

_Mr. and Mrs. Brown_

_Request the honor of your presence_

_At the marriage of their daughter_

_Lavender Brown_

_To_

_Seamus Finnigan_

_On Saturday the Eleventh of August_

_At three o’clock_

_St. Peter’s Church_

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione stared dismally at the invitation she held in her hand. Don’t mistake her — she is absolutely thrilled for her best friend, Lavender. They’ve been the best of mates since uni, and Hermione has always admired Lavender’s outgoing spirit and her ability to turn every situation into a bright, positive, and fun experience. She is truly happy that Lavender has found her lifetime partner in Seamus, a sweet and funny man who matches her character well. 

What Hermione is decidedly _not_ looking forward to is seeing her ex-fiance, Cormac McLaggen. They dated for almost seven years before he essentially broke her heart out of nowhere. She had been mortified, especially when facing the slew of questions her friends and family had as to why. Many were convinced that the pair would be married someday as they almost made it down the aisle. Now, their seven-year relationship was just a bitter memory that she wanted nothing more than to forget about.

With a final sigh, Hermione grabbed her keys and headed out the front door of her home, making her way down the busy streets during the Friday morning rush to work. She lived in a small, cosy flat in the town of Devon. She found the Country a nice change of pace for herself when she spontaneously moved away from her home in London two years ago following her disastrous break-up. She had craved for a change, in both her life and work endeavors, and had joined a non-profit organization in the social justice department as an advocate for low-income families looking for suitable housing. She takes great pride in her job and cherishes the feeling that she is making a difference in other people’s lives.

Her mobile phone buzzed in her bag, causing Hermione to stop in the middle of the street to check the caller ID. _Lavender._ Of course, she smiled to herself before answering. “Morning, Lav.”

“Hermione! I’m getting married!” She squealed into the phone so loudly that Hermione had to wince and pull the device back away from her ear. 

“I’m well aware, Lav, no need to shout!” Hermione grumbled back in response. Lavender’s perky energy was one trait that Hermione believed she would never be able to mimic. A car horn honked loudly, making Hermione jump in response, realising she needed to cross the street quickly, before she became one of those people who loses all sense of street smarts when talking on the phone. 

“I’m just calling to see if you got my cocktail reception invitation yesterday?” Lavender inquired eagerly. 

Hermione grinned knowingly, “I sure did. Opened it this morning before I left for work, set it down next to your wedding announcement. The invitations are beautiful, Lav, truly. It will be the most exquisite wedding.” 

“Well, it wouldn’t all be possible without my maid of honour by my side. Which, by the way, when are you arriving into London again? Seamus and I absolutely cannot _wait_ to see you!” 

“Uh...Wednesday the 8th, mid-day,” Hermione distractedly replied as she weaved her way through the noisy sidewalk crowded with people. 

She could almost see Lavender frowning from the other side of the call. “That doesn’t really leave you and your date a lot of time to get ready before the cocktail party.”

“Yeah, listen Lav, about bringing a guest-”

“And _no,_ you can’t just decide that Harry will be your date as a way to get out of _actually_ bringing someone!” Hermione rolled her eyes but secretly groaned, knowing full well that was _exactly_ what she was planning to do. Harry Potter was her other best friend from uni, who she was also looking forward to seeing upon her return home. Harry was rather cynical and sarcastic most of the time and was the first to convince Hermione that she deserved a chance to get away and explore a different part of her life after the Cormac debacle. 

“I’m not quite sure if I’ll be able to scrounge up a date before next week, but I will try,” Hermione offered. She honestly had no intention of _actually_ finding a date at this point, but she knew it would appease her friend to inform her that she would at least make an attempt. 

Lavender hummed briefly through the receiver, “You know, I could always set you up with-”

“No! Sorry, no blind dates. And I’m remaining firm on that!” Hermione interjected immediately. The last thing she needed was to be set up with a mystery guy and suffer yet another round of humiliation in front of her family when it doesn't work out. 

"Well," Lavender tutted, "I can't wait to find out who you're bringing."

Yes, Hermione will certainly need to go out for a drink tonight. 

* * *

**Ron**

"Two pints over here!"

"Sure thing, Colin!" Ron Weasley replied to one of his loyal customers. 

He blew out a breath and flipped the rag he held in his hands over his shoulder as he meandered his way over to the tap to pour. 

Ron owned a small pub in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole and relished the simple life. He had his pub, his family and enjoyed working with his employees and serving the customers he often saw regularly.

People often described his pub as very eclectic, as it hosted several traditional rackety, old wooden tables perched on top of the deep orange carpeting that covered the floors, along with mismatched wallpaper lining the walls. Yet, the pub itself felt very homey and inviting, and it was a fitting atmosphere for a small village like Ottery. 

"Oi ickle Ronniekins, be a good lad and set your favorite brothers up with a couple of ales and a basket of crisps, would you?" Ron snorted and shook his head while wiping down the nearest open spot at the bar counter, watching as his older twin brothers, Fred and George, took the last two remaining seats at the bar. 

"Should've known you two would show up at some point during the busiest hour during the daytime shift," Ron grumbled, yet grinned at their annoying attempt to provoke him. 

"When are you off work? Think you'll be done in time to join us at the club this evening?" Fred was referring to The W, the swanky nightclub that the twins opened about a year ago in Devon, that had quickly become a smashing success for the two of them. 

"I don't know, guys, I've gotta take Chudley to the vet early tomorrow morning. He's got a growth on his back leg that I'm concerned about, so I need to get it checked out," Ron responded, his eyebrows furrowed tightly for his eight-year old Jack Russell Terrier, who had been his most loyal companion since he rescued him as a wee pup. "And who knows how much that visit will cost, particularly if he actually needs treatment…" Ron murmured lowly, but it was loud enough to where his brothers could hear him. 

Ron wasn't exactly struggling financially, but he didn't have a lot of extra money saved up for emergency medical expenses. He was just hoping that the growth was not something to be concerned about so that he doesn't have to figure out a way to fund his dog's care. 

"You could bartend for us, you know," George suggested. "We could always use some extra help around the club, and we'd pay you, of course." 

Ron debated the offer. He wasn't one to readily admit when he might need some financial support. Still, he figured it wouldn't be a bad idea to save up a little extra money in the event that Chudley did need a procedure or if another kind of emergency pops up. 

He relented after a few minutes, "Alright, I suppose I could do that. Thanks."

Fred clapped him on the back with brotherly affection, "How about you start tonight then? We'll ease you into it." 

"I may regret this after a long shift today and an early morning tomorrow, but sure. Why not?" Ron figured his life could do with a little mix up from his normal Friday evening routine, which usually consisted of a takeaway and a show on the telly, with Chudley curled up in his lap. 

* * *

**Hermione**

Hermione adjusted her pencil skirt and wobbled a bit on her heels as she stood outside the entrance to The W. Her co-worker had recommended the club and, as much as she begged her friend to join her, she was forced to brave a night out on the town by herself. She needed the liquid courage, she chanted to herself, and a night out to hopefully take her mind off of the wedding that was almost guaranteed to be quite eventful. 

She walked inside and was immediately enraptured by the stylish venue, noting how the double doors opened up into a large and spacious main room, divided by an archway. The pièce de résistance of the place was the cobalt blue glass ceiling that served as a mirror for guests on the dance floor. One glance up, and she could see an entire spectrum of color shining back at her. Music pumped through several speakers lining the room, and Hermione’s ears were left ringing from the pulsating electronic beats. The entire atmosphere was vibrant and lively. 

Hermione navigated her way through the throng of people in search of the bar, which was located near the back and extended the entire width of the room. Impressed, Hermione wasted no time before ordering her first drink, sipping on her cocktail as she wandered around the club to explore. She found an empty table in a nearly deserted corner of the venue and decided it would be the ideal spot to people-watch. 

She was halfway through her first drink when a rather boisterous group of women invaded her space and crowded around the table directly in front of her. It was a hen party, she was able to deduce quickly, once spotting the bride-to-be who appeared to be wearing a magenta-colored top that read “Future Mrs.” in large, block letters. The ladies were shouting enthusiastically at each other over the volume of the music, many swaying on their feet, presumably due to the influence of liquor. 

It was then that Hermione caught a glimpse of a tall man with deep auburn hair and a moderately muscular build, dressed in black trousers and a white dress shirt. He walked straight up to the group of women, and they were all over him within seconds. 

“Oooh, look at this hunk over here!” 

“How are you doing, sweetie pie?” 

Hermione scoffed as one woman rested a hand on his forearm, leaning close in a purely seductive move. The red-headed man wasn't moving away and instead flashed the woman a sultry grin. Hermione wondered if she would be the floozy that he would be taking home for the evening. 

She thought, with _certainty_ , that he had to be a male escort. He was quite the smooth talker and clearly was relaxed around a large group of women. He's done this before; she mused as she took the final sip of her cocktail. At that very moment, almost as if the man sensed her eyes studying him, he flickered his gaze over towards Hermione with a curious expression flashing across his face. 

Hermione quickly averted her gaze, pretending to busy herself, stirring the remaining ice left in her glass. After waiting about ten more seconds, she lifted her eyes just slightly, flushing pink immediately as she realised the man's deep blue irises were still staring back. This time, he kinked an eyebrow at her, almost as if to challenge her gaze. 

Hermione lowered her head once more, almost wishing she had a shot to gulp down. _Okay, I've officially suffered enough embarrassment for one night._ She had half a mind to gather her purse and quietly make her exit when a voice interrupted her thoughts. 

"You look like you could use another drink."

Hermione's head snapped up to meet the familiar sparkling blue eyes of the man who had managed to sneak his way over to her when she wasn't looking. 

" _Oh,_ uhm…" She hesitated, staring at the empty glass in her hand. 

"What's your drink of choice? Martini?" The man inquired. 

Feeling braver, Hermione coolly answered, "Yes. Vesper, specifically."

He raised his eyebrows, "Well then, I'll be right back." 

Feeling satisfied with herself, Hermione leaned back in her chair. She observed the hen party again over at the table next to her and snorted as one of the bridesmaids pulled out a bright pink feather boa and wrapped it around the bride-to-be’s neck. 

Hermione gasped as a martini glass appeared in front of her face unexpectedly, and she gracefully wrapped her fingers around the base, looking towards the gentleman who had returned with her drink. She took a small sip of the cocktail, humming approvingly as she tasted the familiar combination of vodka, gin, and French vermouth, with a splash of lemon for an added fruitiness. 

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting your drink order. It's very _James Bond_ of you." He sat down in the chair next to her and sent her a dazzling smile. 

"That's what I was going for," she genuinely smiled back. 

Curiously, she noticed that he did not have a drink for himself in his hand, but perhaps he didn't drink while working the business. 

"I'm Ron," he introduced himself, holding out a hand. 

"Pleasure. I'm Hermione." 

"Hermione?” Ron hummed, “That's a very unique name."

"It's from Shakespeare’s _The Winter Tale._ "

" _Ah,"_ he expressed in interest, leaning back into his seat while crossing his arms. "So what brings you out here this evening, Hermione? Are you, uh, are you waiting for someone?" 

He was clearly fishing for information on whether or not she had a partner, and she couldn't stop the warm feeling that spread through her. _Stop it_ ; _this man is a professional. He does this all the time._

Hermione was certain it was the slight buzz from the alcohol that caused her to overshare the personal details about her life that came out of her mouth next. "No, actually, more like attempting to forget about having to travel back home to see my family for the first time in almost two years to attend my best friend’s wedding as the maid of honour. During which time I have to face my ex-fiance, who also just so happens to be the best man.” She ended her tirade by taking a large swig of her martini in a completely improper manner. 

When she caught Ron’s eyes as her glass parted from her lips, she noticed that he was staring at her with an impassive expression on his face. “Whoa...that is...a justifiable reason for not remaining sober tonight.” 

“Really? You don’t think I’m barmy for attempting to avoid aspects of my life I probably should have confronted ages ago?” Hermione raised her eyebrows unconvincingly. 

Ron merely shrugged and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. She caught a whiff of his aftershave, and she crossed her legs tightly, suddenly feeling the heat of the overcrowded room. “In my completely unbiased opinion from knowing practically nothing about you, aside from what you just told me, that ex-fiance of yours is likely sorry he lost ya, and you have a right to be a little bit anxious about being in his presence.”

_Wow, he really was quite the smooth talker._ “Yes, that is exactly it, you don’t know anything about me, but I appreciate the pep talk.”

Ron chuckled and sent Hermione a lop-sided grin. “Hey now, I said _practically_ nothing. I reckon I’ve managed to work out that you have decent taste in cocktails and that you have a knob of an ex-fiance.”

Hermione tutted, “Don’t forget an overbearing mother who pities me, as her only daughter, for getting dumped and is now entirely convinced that I will never marry.”

“You know, this wedding actually sounds like a jolly good time,” Ron smirked. 

An idea formulated in Hermione’s head, and she had just enough liquid courage to actually ask out loud:

“This may be a ridiculously forward question, but since you already believe it would be a _jolly good time,_ would you by any chance be interested in actually attending this wedding with me?”

* * *

**Ron**

Ron was well aware that he really shouldn’t be spending his time on the clock mingling and not serving other customers, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away from this fascinating woman in front of him. She was dressed quite modestly for a nightclub, and he had the feeling she didn’t visit these types of venues very often, yet she exuberated a specific confidence about her that intrigued him. He wanted to know more about this bird.

However, he certainly wasn’t expecting her to boldly ask him out so soon. Pleased with the offer, he was about to inquire about the details of the event when her next words stopped him in his tracks,

“I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

_Pay me?_ But then he thought about how he was dressed, the setting, how she was observing him as a slew of women surrounded him, him offering her a drink before chatting her up... _she thinks I am a bloody escort._ The thought was unsettling to him, now seeing why she was broaching him so casually on the subject. She likely assumed that offering her a drink was an open invitation to discuss business ventures. 

Normally, he would jump at the chance to rectify the misinterpreted information, but Chudley suddenly popped into his mind. _Imagine what you could do with that money._ Looking at the woman in front of him, she gave off the impression that she didn’t typically make advances towards male escorts very often, if she ever even had before. 

After brief consideration, that he hoped was not long enough of a pause for her to become suspicious, Ron nodded his head slowly. “I would be honored. When and where?” 

Hermione straightened in her seat, looking both relieved and delighted. “Well, the wedding is two weeks from tomorrow. I am scheduled to leave on the morning of Wednesday, August 8th, departing by train to London. The wedding is on Saturday the 11th, and I plan to head back to Devon the following day, on the 12th. I know it’s a lot to ask at the last minute, so I would of course completely understand if you can’t make it.”

Ron contemplated the dates. He would need to find someone to watch Chudley and make sure he could get the pub covered for a few days, both tasks he felt were feasible with the time he had to prepare. Besides, he hadn’t really taken much time off from his owner responsibilities since...well...never. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

Hermione dug through her purse and retrieved a pen to hand over to Ron. “Here, why don’t you write your number on my hand, that way I can give you a call tomorrow with the details, and we can discuss payment.”

Ron was mildly amused, as she held out her palm expectantly, yet followed her lead and hastily scribbled his number down for her. 

“Brilliant,” she beamed at him, just before a yawn escaped her lips. Ron thought the action was rather adorable. 

“Looks like I’m boring you now,” Ron teased as a guilty look crossed her face. He gestured his head towards the exit, “Come on, I’ll call you a taxi.” He pocketed the receipt for the drink he held in his hand. Well, he couldn’t very well ask her to pay for her drink before she leaves now, could he? Guess he will be settling that tab on his own accord at the end of his shift. 

A few minutes later, Ron led Hermione towards the familiar set of double doors at the club’s front entrance, where a single car waited. She opened the back door and spun around to face him one last time, “Well, until next time, Mr....” 

“Weasley,” he smiled, “Ron Weasley.”

“Until then, Mr. Weasley.” Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Ron marveled at how her chocolate brown orbs seemed to sparkle back at him. In a flash, she was gone, deposited into the car with a final shut of the door behind her. 

“There you are!” Fred poked his head out the club’s front door, just as the car was pulling away. “We’ve been searching for you for ages!” 

Ron stole one last glance at the taxi that was driving off into the distance. “I had to take care of someone who needed to find a ride home,” he excused himself quickly. “Say, would you be able to watch Chudley for a few days in a couple of weeks?”

“Sure. Any particular reason?” Fred questioned. 

Ron smiled to himself, “I think I’m going to London.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione introduces Ron to her friends/family at Lavender and Seamus' cocktail reception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters. 
> 
> A/N: Happy Wednesday, all! Thanks so much for the lovely comments on chapter one. This chapter is a bit lengthier, so enjoy :) 
> 
> Thanks again to the lovely accio-broom for beta-ing.

**Chapter Two**

* * *

**Hermione**

As the wedding week arrived, Hermione slightly regretted inviting an almost complete stranger on an extended weekend trip. Not only would he be meeting her entire family and closest set of friends, but he would also be attending a wedding as her boyfriend _. Fake_ boyfriend, she added as an afterthought.

Of course, she discussed this issue with Ron at length when she called him the day after their run-in at the club to go through the itinerary. Despite having had a few drinks the night prior, it seemed as though he took her slightly inebriated invitation seriously and acted like he was looking forward to the trip. Lavender was floored when Hermione informed her that she would, in fact, be bringing a date to the wedding. Hermione deflected Lavender's attempts to grill her on who he was and why exactly she had hidden the fact that they were _going steady_. Hermione decided to stay relatively mum on the matter, just in case it didn’t pan out the way she had hoped. 

“I know you’re nervous, but stop worrying," Ron told her the week of the wedding when she had called him once more to confirm the train schedule. "Your ex-fiance will wish he never left you, and your family will believe that we are together.”

However, nothing made her more nervous than the text she received from Ron a few hours before their train was scheduled to depart. _I’m running a little late, but I’ll meet you on the train._

“Train to London Paddington Station, all remaining passengers please make your way to platform one."

To prevent herself from chewing completely through her nails, Hermione searched around fast for something to occupy her hands. _Reading material._ She grabbed a railroad safety manual from the pocket of the seatback in front of her and flipped through it. She read through the pages for a few minutes before she happened to glance to her right. A woman was staring peculiarly at her from across the aisle. “Is this your first trip?” She asked Hermione. 

The warmth that spread through Hermione’s cheeks made her flush. “Oh no, not at all; I’m a very experienced traveler.” She paused briefly before adding a second thought, “My best friend is getting married, and the best man is my ex-fiance. In case I chicken out, I thought it would be only proper to know where all the exits are.”

“I travel all the time, I promise,” Hermione rambled on as she guzzled down a bottle of water. “The reason why I’m so nervous is that any minute now, my date is going to sit down right here,” she gestured towards the seat in front of her, “and I need him to look really, really attractive today.” 

Honestly, Hermione wasn’t quite sure she remembered exactly what Ron Weasley looked like, only that he had sparkling blue eyes and auburn locks. The thought of him was enough to twist her insides. _Now is not the time, Hermione._

The middle-aged woman nodded approvingly at a figure behind Hermione’s head. “I think I may spot the man you are looking for.” Hermione wondered if his hair was a dead giveaway but clenched her eyes shut, not willing to look just yet. “And might I just say, he is quite the handsome fellow.”

When Hermione finally willed her eyes to open, Ron stood before her, a single rucksack thrown over his shoulder. “H-hi,” she stammered out, entranced by the lop-sided grin he gave her that sent shivers down her spine. _Wow, he is so much better looking than I imagined him in my drunken state._

“Hermione!” He greeted warmly, hesitating for a moment before leaning over and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. She was positive that the heat of her cheeks was evident to him and everyone else seated close by. 

“Come and sit?” She waved a hand towards their seats, and he followed the invitation by sitting directly across from her so that his body was facing in her direction. Their knees collided together as he sat down. _Blimey, he has some long legs._ She found it hard to physically move her own legs, and she watched through bated breath as their knees continued to brush against each other. The train began to rumble, signaling that they were about to depart. 

“I’m glad you found your way okay,” Hermione finally offered, and he nodded his head.

“Yeah, sure did. M’sorry we weren’t able to leave earlier; I know you wanted to get settled in before the... what did you call it?”

“The cocktail reception?”

“Yeah, that. Before the party starts.”

“Yeah,” Hermine laughed nervously, “Your work must be crazy.” 

Ron raised his eyebrows at her comments. “Sure, I suppose you can say that if serving…” He paused and apparently decided against saying anything further. 

Hermione wrinkled her nose slightly at his vague comment, but she reckoned she shouldn’t really be surprised. _He probably would’ve commented about serving other women but didn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable._

“I should have warned you over the phone, but I’ll tell you now just so that you’re prepared.” Ron raised his eyebrows at the prefaced comment, “You know those families that it seems like everyone is just completely mental, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter much because they’re still your family, and you love them?”

Ron nodded his head slowly, his face contorted into a curious expression. 

“Mine’s not like that.”

Ron scoffed in response and rubbed the back of his neck. He gazed out the window, clearly trying to hide the hint of a smile that threatened to spread across his lips. 

"Well, I think I'll manage," he responded, and she wondered how he could be so at ease with going on an extended weekend trip with someone he barely knew. 

"I've never done anything like this before, you know," Hermione spluttered out before she could stop herself.

"Like going to a wedding? Riding on a train? There are many possible scenarios you could be referring to." He was teasing her, that much she was sure about, but she continued. 

"I've never paid someone to pretend to be my fake-boyfriend to appease my family." Hermione put a hand to her mouth as she realized how loudly she had admitted that information, her eyes landing on the woman across the row, whose gaze remained down at her book, but her eyebrows were raised. She had clearly heard every word. 

Hermione sank lower into her seat and groaned. _Wonderful, Hermione, you're really doing an excellent job at making a fool of yourself._

Ron remained tight-lipped but leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees as he stared her directly in the eye. She was rather intimidated by the heat of his gaze. 

In a low, hushed tone, he said, "You don't have to be ashamed of that. Why don't we try getting to know each other a bit? Maybe that will help ease the nerves and make both of us more comfortable around each other." 

And so they spent the next hour quizzing each other on random, trivial facts about the other person. Hermione had learned that Ron has a dog, Chudley, who he raved on and on about in an adorable way. He was part of a very large family, the sixth sibling out of seven. Ron discovered that Hermione was an avid reader and that Mansfield Park is her favorite book. She also told him about the kind of work she did and spoke passionately about the families she served. He listened closely and acted genuinely interested in her work. 

Ron was incredibly personable and had such a natural confidence about him. By the end of the conversation, Hermione drifted off into sleep, feeling much more relaxed than she did when she first got on the train. 

Hermione woke up groggily about an hour later to the announcement that they would be arriving in London soon. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and rolled out the kinks in her back from falling asleep in a rather uncomfortable position. She chanced a glance at Ron, who was wide awake, and he stared back at her with an amused grin.

“Good morning.” It was a cheeky greeting, as it was clearly now early afternoon. 

Hermione offered him a polite smile before turning around and reaching into her handbag for her compact mirror. Flipping it open, she was horrified to view her mass of curls sticking out from every which end and the faintest tint of drool around the corners of her mouth. Her makeup was smudged, black eyeliner now smeared across her cheek. She groaned softly, sinking into her seat further. 

She couldn’t make it to the loo fast enough.

* * *

**Ron**

Ron had a lot of time to get lost in his thoughts as he waited for Hermione to re-emerge from the lavatory of the first pub they came across once leaving the station. 

His first thought was of the woman who managed to rope him into an entire weekend out of town. On the outside, Hermione appeared somewhat prim and proper, and her boldness at the club struck him as someone who knows how to get others to follow her lead. As he was getting to know her, he realized that she was fairly insecure and obviously afraid of failing her family. She was quite interesting, this Hermione Granger, and he was more than curious to meet her family and gain a better understanding of why she felt the need to lie to them. 

His thoughts drifted off to Chudley - his beloved Chudley. The visit to the veterinary clinic revealed that the growth on his dog’s paw, despite it being a benign cyst, would need to be surgically removed to prevent further treatment needed down the road. If left as is, the growth would affect Chudley’s ability to walk properly and be very painful for him. Surgery was scheduled for the Monday following his weekend in London. In short, the surgery would likely be costly, and he could use the extra money that Hermione was offering to him. Besides, he found that he was quite enjoying himself so far, and the woman currently hiding out in the loo had a lot to do with that sentiment. 

Hermione appeared out of the train station bathroom, now dressed in a powder blue knee-length dress, with lace on the short-sleeves. Ron surveyed her appearance with an appreciative smile. 

“I’m sorry, I know you must think I’m fretting over...well, who knows what you’re thinking,” Hermione spoke quickly, taking the time to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress. 

“May I offer a tip? If you look people in the eye, they’ll never notice what you’re wearing,” he simply responded with a twinkle in his eye. “Just remember, you’re a beautiful woman,” he blushed slightly as he spoke the words. “And any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Ron wasn’t quite sure where this brilliant advice was coming from, but Hermione seemed pleased by his compliments. “Well...I don’t usually feel beautiful. But I need to get over my woes and be confident. I want to look... _desirable_.” Her eyes lit up with an idea, and she darted back into the loo, much to Ron’s dismay. He checked his wristwatch, knowing they would likely be late to the cocktail reception given the time listed on the itinerary that Hermione had handed him on the train. 

Ron’s mouth gaped open as she emerged yet again, donning a deep red, strapless gown that clung tightly to her petite frame and cut off just right above her knees. 

Ron cleared his throat and closed his mouth before she admonished him for gawking at her. “Mission accomplished.” _Merlin, help me; I might be in trouble with this one._

“Really?” Hermione looked hopeful.

“Well, I’d shag you! If that’s alright with you, sir?” Dave, the pub worker, hollered from across the room, and Hermione turned around quickly in disgust. 

* * *

“I-I don’t know if I can do this,” Hermione paused in her stride. 

They were now standing just outside the entrance to the Plaza hotel where the cocktail reception was being held. Hermione was overcome with the feeling of dread. Ron gently pulled her forward by the elbow, “ _Yes,_ you can. Now come on, we still haven’t even made it inside the door.”

Ron’s hand remained steady on the middle of her back as he guided her past the concierge desk and into a larger ballroom. Hermine spotted the welcome sign: _Cocktail Reception for the Brown/Finnigan Wedding._

Hermione didn't immediately spot anyone she knew, thankfully. She was about to grab Ron's hand to lead him towards the bar when they were intercepted by a well-dressed elderly woman wearing an excessive amount of pearls. 

“Oh, Aunt Moana!” Hermione plastered on a fake smile, taking the hands of the woman gently.

“Oh, my dear girl! How lovely to see you,” she leaned closer and patted their joined hands, “This should’ve been you getting married, you know. And to think, _Cormac_ is the best man…”

“Have you met my boyfriend, Ron?” Hermione swiftly interrupted, placing a hand on Ron’s shoulder. 

Aunt Moana studied him intensely. “Well, how... _charming._ And... what is it you do for work?”

“Oh, you know what, excuse me, I thought I heard someone calling my name. Lovely to see you again!” Hermione fumbled out before leading Ron away quickly. 

“Are you that embarrassed for someone to know I’m a pub owner?” He grumbled underneath his breath. They had decided on the train that the job profession would be his “alias”. Ron was quick to suggest it, as it made him feel a bit more at ease with fibbing on the male escort side of it all.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Hermione assured as she led him out of the room and into a small wardrobe. He wordlessly helped her slip out of her coat and watched her closely as she proceeded to look for an unoccupied hanger. “Look, I completely spaced on the fact that we should come up with a story about how we met. Maybe we met at your restaurant? We just recently started dating, and you’re absolutely nutters over me.”

“Nutters, huh?” He laughed.

She couldn’t exactly tell if he was taking her comments seriously, but she proceeded to babble on her own regardless. “Look, I know you didn’t have to come here with me; quite frankly, I’m not exactly sure why you agreed. I’m sorry if I’m not the woman you met in the club the other night…”

Ron held up a hand to stop her rambling. "I agreed to be here, alright? And...I am quite enjoying my time with you and will continue to as long as you don't start off on another tangent again."

Hermione winced. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep saying I’m sorry.”

“...sorry.” 

Ron stared at her, blankly with crossed arms. “It’s also really annoying.”

“Ohhhh, my sweet, sweet Hermione dear! Where have you been?” They were bombarded by an older woman with short, curly brown hair and thick glasses. This person appeared to be Hermione's mum, as she embraced her daughter into a tight hug. “Pull over for a quickie?” Her mum murmured, definitely not out of earshot from Ron. His cheeks turned pink at the suggestion. 

Hermione sputtered, “Mum!” Ron now understood what she had meant when she called her mother _barmy_ on the train. 

Jean Granger ignored her daughter completely and redirected her attention towards Ron. “And who might this be?”

“Hi, I’m Ron...Ron Weasley, I’m the new guy,” He offered his hand politely, which her mother graciously accepted. He felt uneasy by the way Jean’s gaze lingered on his body. 

“ _Mum,”_ Hermione called out in annoyance through gritted teeth, breaking Jean’s focus long enough for Ron to quickly pull his hand away and shove it deep into the pockets of his trousers. 

“Ta Hermione, we’ve got a busy week ahead,” Jean clapped her hands together and started rattling off the entire schedule that she knew by heart as she helped Lavender and her mum plan the entire event. “Today is the cocktail reception, followed by a lovely day out in the park planned for tomorrow, along with stags and hens. Friday will be the picnic luncheon, with the rehearsal dinner in the evening…” 

“Dad!” Hermione interjected, and Ron noted how relieved she looked to have been interrupted at that exact moment in time. 

Her father’s eyes lit up as he approached the group, and he leaned close to kiss his daughter on the cheek. “Hi, my darling.” 

“I’d like you to meet Ron.” Hermione placed a delicate hand on Ron’s shoulder and nudged him forward. 

“Wonderful to meet you, sir,” Ron cleared his throat and shook her father’s hand firmly. It was unnerving to Ron the way the man was looking him squarely in the eye. _How is it possible to be this nervous about meeting the father of a woman that I am not actually dating?_

“Hermione?!” A squeal rang out from the opposite end of the room, fortunately breaking the staring contest. “Oh, gosh, I missed you so much! Can you believe it? I’m getting married!”

A woman with long, dark blonde hair curled to perfection, and multiple layers of makeup ran up to Hermione and engulfed her into a crushing hug. Hermione patted her back weakly, likely due to the lack of room she had to breathe. Ron’s first impression of Lavender gave away that she had the exact opposite personality to Hermione. Lavender appeared to be bright, bubbly, and energetic — three traits that he hadn’t really seen Hermione display at all yet. 

“Who’s the stud, huh?” Lavender winked over at Ron. Ron’s hands shifted uncomfortably in his pockets. 

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Lavender was already weaving her way through the throng of people again. “Seamus, where did you run off to?!”

Hermione just shrugged at Ron, although she looked a bit relieved that she didn’t have to make that introduction just yet. 

“In times like these, I’ve found that a strong drink helps, don’t you agree?” Hermione’s father leaned over and whispered into Ron’s ear. Ron saw that Jean was already badgering Hermione yet again, and Ron figured this was the perfect opportunity for him to break away from the awkward conversation for a moment. 

“Well, may I get you another refill, Mr. Granger?”

Hermione’s father, Robert Granger, handed Ron his empty glass approvingly. “Thank you kindly!”

Ron held up the empty glass to gesture to Hermione where he was going and sauntered off towards the bar. Once there, he ordered an old-fashioned for Hermione’s father. On second thought, he ordered two more. He wasn’t quite sure if Hermione liked whiskey or not, but judging by the way he watched her wave her arms in irritation at her mum, she was going to need it. 

He returned to the group with three glasses in his hands and was amused at how Hermione practically snatched her drink out of Ron’s hand and almost downed it all in one gulp. Ron raised his eyebrows as she immediately coughed, obviously not stopping to realize just how stiff the drink was. He patted her back gently and almost laughed at the way Hermione was looking at him incredulously. “What? I thought you would sip and savor it like a normal person,” Ron muttered and received a fierce glare back. 

A tap on a microphone near the front of the room averted their attention as Lavender’s mother approached the podium with a wide grin plastered on her face. “Hello, everyone! We are so grateful that you are here to celebrate with us, as we welcome Seamus and the Finnigans into our family....”

Rom remained standing next to Hermione as Jean maneuvered her way over to Hermione’s other side and loudly whispered, “Interestingly enough, I always thought you would be married before Lavender would ever even start thinking about wanting to settle down…”

Hermione attempted to focus on the speech, but her mother, quite oblivious to what was going on around her, kept droning on, “And well...you came quite close once, dear, and we all know how that turned out…”

Ron felt Hermione’s body stiffen as their shoulders brushed together, and he tried to keep his gaze forward and make it obvious that he overheard everything her mother just said. Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione’s waist without looking towards her, making her jump slightly, but she relaxed almost instantly and leaned into him. 

Jean finally quieted down, and they were able to return their attention to the speech at the front of the room. “Seamus, thank you for loving our Lavender and taking care of her. We are so glad that you two found your way to one another. Congratulations to the future groom and bride-to-be!” A series of cheers and hollers rang out as Seamus and Lavender embraced and kissed passionately in the center of the room. 

Hermione pulled Ron by the arm as soon as the speech was over, likely desperate to get away from her mum for a bit. However, she stopped short in her tracks, directly in the path of a tall man with slicked-back hair. He was well-groomed and had an airy confidence about him. The way he walked towards them gave off a vibe of self-entitlement. 

“Cormac,” Hermione offered a forced smile, and Ron’s lips curled downward. _So this is Cormac._

“Wow, Hermione, you look - you look…” Cormac’s eyes traveled up and down her body, and Ron felt an unsettling pull in his stomach. He had the sudden urge to knee the bloody git in the groin for looking at her that way. 

Cormac reached over and touched her lightly on the elbow. He ignored Ron entirely. “It’s wonderful to see you…”

“Is that...Hermione _Granger,_ I see?” A loud, booming voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase, and Ron raised his head to see a well-dressed man in a suit with jet-black hair and glasses. 

“Harry!” Hermione shouted and greeted him enthusiastically once he descended the steps, notedly leaving Cormac standing alone, hand poised to where Hermione’s arm used to be. Ron smugly grinned at the crestfallen look on the man’s face. _Serves him right._

Ron shoved his hands in his pockets, watching curiously as Hermione lovingly embraced this Harry bloke. She had mentioned him briefly on the train, stating that he was her good friend from uni. 

Once Hermione released her hold on him, Harry turned to Cormac and bluntly sneered, “Hello, arsehole.” _I like this bloke._

“Don’t mind if I steal her away, do ya? Cheers, mate,” Harry clapped Cormac roughly on the back, making him grunt loudly, just before pulling Hermione away by the elbow. Ron snorted, earning him a glare from Hermione’s ex-fiance, and followed behind the two friends. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” he could hear Hermione mumble over to Harry, who was weaving them through the crowd of guests. 

“Hermione, did I ever tell you that you are too bloody nice for your own good?” Harry retorted, finally stopping at the bar and ordering a drink. It was only then that Harry looked over to see Ron standing there. 

“Oh, my apologies, I’ve been very rude. I’m Harry...Harry Potter,” he offered his hand in a friendly manner towards Ron, which he took with a smile.

“Ron Weasley, pleasure to meet you.”

“So _this_ is the man you’ve been hiding from the rest of us, Granger?” Harry teased, “Why waste any more time on that miserable shite back there when you’ve this good lad right here? 

“I wasn’t…” Hermione blushed, staring at her feet.

“You _were_ , but it’s okay,” Harry smiled knowingly. 

Ron took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Hermione’s shoulder and lean over to press a chaste kiss to her temple. Her eyelids fluttered open wide, and she gazed over at him in surprise. In an effort to keep up the pretenses, Ron added, “She always gets so shy, this one. Don’t worry, mate, I don’t plan on letting her get away.” 

Harry looked satisfied by his answer and held up his glass. “Cheers, mate.” Ron had a feeling they were going to get along swimmingly. 

Lavender unexpectedly bustled her way through the center of the trio. “Hermione! Do you know what I just _love_ about all of this?”

“There is finally a reason for the whole world to revolve around you?” Hermione batted her eyelashes sweetly, yet sarcastically, and the sight made Ron laugh inside. 

“Lav, there you are!” Seamus’ hearty voice came bellowing through the crowd. He wrapped his arms around Lavender’s waist from behind and kissed her sloppily on the cheek. “And how is my lovely bride-to-be?” 

“I’m just _perfect,_ honeybunch,” she giggled and turned around in his arms to snake her hands behind his neck. They nuzzled their noses together in a disgustingly cute way. 

“God, I love you. Can’t believe I get to marry this gorgeous woman!” Seamus exclaimed, wagging his eyebrows over Lavender’s head. 

“Well, I’ll certainly dance to that!” Lavender cheered, spinning around clumsily, tripping over the shoe of someone behind her. Seamus’ arms flung out to catch her fall, both laughing hysterically in the process. Ron, Hermione, and Harry continued gawking at the pair in disbelief, wondering how the hell the two people getting married happened to be the two drunkest at the party. 

“I suppose we definitely need those dance lessons on Friday, huh?” Lavender winked over at Hermione, just before grabbing Seamus’ tie. “You’re coming with me, right, Hermione? And bring your hunk!” She didn’t wait for a response before disappearing into the crowd of people. 

This was certainly proving to be an interesting weekend. 

* * *

Sometime later, Ron stepped outside onto the veranda to get some fresh air, knowing Hermione was deep in discussion about bridesmaid duties with Lavender. He was disgruntled to find Cormac already out there, staring off into the green shrubbery, sipping on the whiskey in his hand. 

Ron coughed once and stood a safe distance away, squinting into the fading sunlight. Cormac gave him a once over and smirked. “I don’t believe we were properly introduced before.”

“Yeah…” Ron mumbled and smiled tightly at him. “I’m Ron. Ron Weasley. Hermione’s _boyfriend_.” He puffed his chest out and stood tall, towering over Cormac's frame. He took great pleasure in the scowl that appeared on the other man's face, despite how unlike Ron it was to display such overt masculinity. 

"Boyfriend, right…" Cormac reiterated with a condescending smile, downing the rest of his drink. "These gatherings are quite taxing, aren't they?" 

"I wouldn't know; this is the first pre-reception to the wedding reception I've attended," Ron responded sarcastically. 

Cormac scoffed. "Consider yourself lucky." 

"Weddings are supposed to be a celebration of love and the commitment two people make to one another, but I believe it really just gives people another reason to get pissed." 

Cormac raised his glass over to Ron, his eyes glazed over, definitely a tell-tale sign that he was already drunk. 

They remained silent for a minute before Ron followed the line of Cormac’s gaze over to Hermione, who he could see chatting and laughing with Lavender through the window. “Oh dear God...there’s just...this girl. I care for her deeply; I suppose you could even say I love her. And bugger, of course, she is here with some other guy.”

_He's not over Hermione._ It was plain as day to Ron, with Cormac staring longingly after her through the glass. Ron had to look away, swallowing hard. _Merlin's saggy tits._

The air between them was suddenly filled with an awkward hostility, and neither felt compelled to really continue the conversation further. A few minutes later, their silence was interrupted.

“Oh, here you are!” Hermione arrived out of the blue, pressing a kiss to Ron’s cheek. 

“Oh, hi again, Hermione.”

“Hello, again yourself," she acknowledged Cormac but remained brief and cordial before turning back to Ron, "Darling, I think it's time we head back inside, don't you think? I have a few people I'd like you to meet." 

"I think it's time for me to refill my glass, pardon me," Cormac managed out, his cheeks flushed, before making a hasty escape. 

Hermione smiled sweetly, a smile that was as fake as Ron could make out, then frowned at the back of Cormac's head as he walked by. “Well, he looks wretched, don’t you think? What were you two going on about, anyway?” She anxiously quizzed Ron once Cormac was safely inside. 

Ron shrugged bitterly, not really concerned about keeping the conversation on this Cormac git any longer. “Nothing really, but it was quite obvious that he isn’t over you.”

“What-what are you saying? You don’t think he wants to try to win me back, do you?”

The queasy feeling in Ron’s stomach returned, and he took another large swig of his whiskey to avoid answering the question. 

* * *

**Hermione**

The reception ended far later than anyone expected, and it was already dark outside when they arrived at Hermione's childhood home, where they would be staying with her parents for the entirety of the trip. 

“Thanks again for having me!” Ron remarked once they had just reached the top of the landing with their luggage, standing near the corridor of bedrooms. 

“Oh, don’t be silly, my dear boy, we are delighted to have you," Jean patted Ron on the arm with a genuine smile, "Although, I do wish I knew you existed before today…”

Hermione didn't even bother hiding the way her eyes flickered upward at her mother's passive-aggressive comment. 

“Come on, dear…” Robert was already coaxing his wife down the stairs, obviously attempting to diffuse the tension. 

“Oh well, I just love surprises!” Jean continued shrilly from a few steps down, dramatically waving her arms. 

“Which room will Ron be sleeping in?” Hermione called down the stairs after her parents. 

“Oh, don’t worry, darling, we’ve already had the bed made up for you both in your old room!" 

“I’m sorry, for us both?” Hermione stammered, looking nervously over at Ron. 

“We’re not as old-fashioned as you may think," Jean said slyly with a wink, just before disappearing to the floor below. 

“I’m really sorry about all of...this,” Hermione mumbled as she led him into her room, taking note of the dusty shelves of books that still lined the walls. _I should be thankful I didn't leave anything too embarrassing behind._ She watched Ron cautiously as his eyes traveled through the room curiously.

"You can just set your things down over...there," she pointed towards the chest of drawers in the far corner of the room. 

Hermione drummed her fingers on the top of her luggage, conspicuously looking over at Ron as he sat on her bed, startled by a squeak from underneath his rear. Ron pulled out a small stuffed lamb and held it up to show Hermione, his mouth twitching upward.

"Oh, that's just...I'll just…" Hermione crossed the room and swiped the animal from Ron's hands, relocating it to the wardrobe before shutting the door. Her cheeks were burning as she returned to her luggage. She smoothed down her hair and resumed her task of unpacking. It made her a bit uneasy to feel Ron's eyes on her as she moved about the room. 

She barely made it another minute before she had to exhale loudly. “I’m sorry...I’m just a little nervous. Never thought I’d ever be in a situation like this.”

“A situation like this?” Ron drew his eyebrows together. 

"You know, sharing a bedroom with a…" She lowered her voice slightly, " _pretend boyfriend whom I paid to spend the weekend with me."_

Ron's lips tightened, and she considered briefly that she had shared too much. "You know, you don't have to mention the _money_ part all the time…"

"Okay...sorry…" The word spilled out before she could backtrack. Ron just shook his head in response and started removing his clothes from his rucksack. _Oh right, I'm not supposed to be apologising._

Hermione took the opportunity to escape into the adjoining loo to change into her pyjamas and brush her teeth. She took great care with her brushing and flossing, even smearing a smidge of gloss on her lips and running her hands through her hair to tame her bushy curls. Feeling satisfied with her appearance, she emerged from the loo and walked to the opposite side of the bed from where Ron was now laying on his back, already having changed into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and an old short-sleeved shirt. His eyes were closed, but his breathing patterns indicated that he wasn't asleep yet. 

“So, how did Cormac sound when you spoke to him earlier?” 

“Seriously?” Ron asked without opening his eyes. 

“Yeah," Hermione bit her lip and fiddled with her fingers, "I mean, did he seem happy or…”

Ron sighed deeply. “I thought he was a pretty glum bloke if I’m being honest.”

Hermione nodded but felt more befuddled than ever. _What does that even mean?_ “It’s just that, now that I’m here, I’m not feeling the way I thought that I would.”

“Oh? And how is that?” Ron inquired with piqued interest. 

“I don’t know. I was half-expecting to come in here and find him all over some tart. And now, he just seems more mature.”

Ron let out a hearty chuckle and squinted one eye open to look at her. 

“Oi! Don’t laugh!” She snapped back. Hermione grabbed three pillows and methodically placed them vertically down the mattress, essentially creating a divider between Ron's side of the bed and hers. 

“Do you honestly believe that I want to be alone and miserable? That I want to still be thinking about a guy who up and out of nowhere just shattered my heart?”

“First of all, I’m a believer that everything happens for a reason. And second of all, yeah. I think you do.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione put her hands on her hips. _The nerve of this man..._

“When you’re ready to move on, you will. Until then, you’re stuck with these feelings of self-doubt. Once you muck up the courage to let go, then you'll be able to move forward." 

His words theoretically made sense, and she decided it would be best to table the conversation until tomorrow. 

"I hope you're...comfortable with the sleeping arrangements.” 

"I'm fine," he muttered into his pillow. 

"Really, let me know if-"

" _Goodnight,_ Hermione." His tone of voice let Hermione know that he was over the pillow talk. 

She tossed and turned, finding it hard to get settled into a comfortable spot to rest. Ron groaned from the other side after a few minutes,

"Just _relax_." 

Hermione huffed out a loud breath and pulled the blanket high up to cover her chest area, resting her hands on her stomach. She closed her eyes and focused on steadily breathing in and out of her nose. She heard Ron's snores and knew he had fallen asleep. 

Hermione’s last thought before she drifted off was of Ron and how they wouldn’t likely get away without publicly kissing each other at some point before the weekend was over. The thought was decidedly delightful.


End file.
